Are You Still Mad
by Kariko Emma
Summary: ...Of course you are.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** The reincarnations of this fic have been plentiful in my hard drive. The title, though, is the original one. And someday I will stop writing these Ka/Jii fics, but today is just not the day.

**Thanks:** All the quotations are from **G. K. Chesterton**. I relied on him heavily, because that's what makes this piece so funny (mainly from Jiraiya's perspective, especially as a writer). It's mostly why I resurrected and finished this version. And also, I thank Alanis Morissette with her song '_Are You Still Mad'_. So powerful.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.  
**Genre:** Mindfunk and crazy crack theories of the Hatake clan.  
**Rhymes?** I promise I didn't rhyme in this one…

.

.

.

.

**1**

.

.

"He never reported back," her brown eyes informed factually.

"How is that my problem?" his stance suggested.

Tsunade turned her head and rolled those beautiful brown eyes in disgust. She brushed her blonde hair back like deflecting insects: she was becoming annoyed. The hokage knew about this little game with the large man before her, mostly because she was in love with his half-brother once. And she knew what the death had done to the sage. To her. To the world. And while Jiraiya was still Jiraiya in everyday life, he was an ignorant fool in this regard. A worse gambler than she. Thus, "Jiraiya, I really don't have time for this," she sighed.

Jiraiya waved his hand at the imaginary fly. Apparently it was buzzing around him too, on imaginary wings. The sage's silver-white hair was like a pool the hokage could dip her feet into until his flamethrower of a mouth rambled on like a poet, "'It is wicked to call a man "damned" but it is strictly religious and philosophic to call him damnable', you know," he quoted.

Tsunade stared. Her pens were beginning to melt and bleed ink on her desk. "So? You're already both screwed in my opinion."

Jiraiya shrugged largely. Clearly he was aiming for the kill, "'Life (according to faith) is very like a serial story in a magazine: life ends with the promise (or menace) "to be continued in our next."'" Jiraiya ignored Tsunade's yawn and the fall of her head on her palm. "'Also, with a noble vulgarity, life imitates the serial and leaves off at the exciting moment,'" Jiraiya grinned, "'For _death_ is distinctly an exciting moment.'"

"Oh cut the crap," Tsunade glared upright, "He could actually _be_ dead."

"Then I don't have to do shit!" Jiraiya complained, "Happy trails!"

Tsunade sighed, "No you don't." She stopped him, picking up an old green scroll. The woman held it up in front of her face scornfully, waving it in her hand. Jiraiya glared at it. "You've got his blood somewhere, do it yourself!" he exclaimed.

"If we lose him, we lose another shinobi before Akatsuki breathes down our backs. It will happen. Think of it this way," she said, tossing him the scroll. His catch was his hands juggling the thing for a moment, as if it was on fire. "Do it for Naruto."

"No," like a five year old.

"Yes," as a boss.

Jiraiya growled at her as the scroll continued burning a mark in his hand. "You _owe_ me…" Submission.

"Upon _return_," the woman smiled, a glint of steel behind her smile. Tsunade being Tsunade. And quite pleased with herself.

"Yeah yeah yeah…"

Jiraiya's white hair whipped behind him, trying to smack those invisible flies back up her nose.

.

Uzuki Yuugao was waiting outside the door.

She glanced up as the sage exited. Jiraiya looked down at her as he entered the hall. "Hm," he let out a grumble, still holding the scroll in his left hand. The woman appeared ready for an order from the sannin, but instead he asked, "Where's Yamato? You know, the guy with the mokuton."

"Training Naruto."

"Well if this is _for_ Naruto…oh…nevermind," Jiraiya shook his head. "I guess you'll do," he said. "Just don't blabber to me about…him. Just tell me as it is. No mooning. No silent reveries. We do this strictly professional and by the book. Not that I've ever followed the book. Mostly I just scribbled in it…"

An honest, "Yes sir," she nodded.

"…Hm," he couldn't help but grumble again. Getting into detail was proving difficult. Jiraiya tossed her the scroll. Despite her surprise, she caught it. The thing had cooled considerably since being in his hand, but his mouth was still sparking, "Have you level five access to the red room?"

"…No."

DAMN!

The invisible fly sniggered in his ear. Stupid fly. Jiraiya shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. Then he reluctantly reached in his robe, searching his pocket of hidden things. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he chuckled grimly. "It's like you're my daughter." Jiraiya's pen and small pad revealed themselves and he wrote a small note. "Here's your permission slip. Tell them daddy Jiraiya sent you."

Yuugao accepted the note. She advanced an idea slowly, "I take it the rules of exaggeration apply to _you_…sir." Granted, Jiraiya wasn't exactly the toughest CO she'd ever head, but if they could not cooperate, she felt entitled to speak her mind.

Jiraiya blinked slowly. He grinned humorlessly, "Did Tsunade put you up to this?"

"No sir."

"Humm," Jiraiya sounded. The look on the young woman's face did not suggest foul play so he indulged her. "In answer to your question, yes, the rules of exaggeration _do_ apply to me. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all."

Jiraiya's smile fainted when he remembered the response was given by a woman. Surely she _would_ care at some point, the very minute no doubt he stepped on one of her sensitive little toes. Women were all the same. Even Tsunade. "Fine," he agreed, much to his hazard. "Go activate that and we'll meet at the gate in fifteen."

"Yes sir," she nodded, and vanished.

.

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

.

.

.

.

**2**

.

Jiraiya was no less than shocked the woman was already there at the gate, waiting for him. "How embarrassing," he rolled his eyes. "So I guess he's here now."

"Yes," she nodded. "He's finding the trail."

"Fine…Did it really not take that long?" the sage inquired after a pause.

"No sir…They actually believed I was your daughter and put a rush on it."

Jiraiya chuckled heartily—first time since waking up laughing that morning. The hiccups then were so hilarious he nearly choked on his morning coffee and failed to get the new manuscript to his editor. This time he contained them, garbling them down and smiling. And after being drunk on chortles for a few seconds, he remembered the poet, "'The comedy of man survives the tragedy of man'…most of the time," Jiraiya added, a touch sorely. "Remember that," he tossed off on her frivolously.

"Yes sir," she answered.

The dog howled.

"Ladies first…" but she was already off and running.

"Glad I'm not the only one to get this over with," he muttered as he followed. "How embarrassing…" he said yet again, en route.

Three hours passed.

Three long, incredibly boring hours.

The trail ended (and the dog vanished) in a forest near the coast. But really, all the sage could hear was the white noise in his head from the wind. (The shade matched his wild mane beautifully.) But the noise was far from pleasant. "Do you know," he detracted as they stopped, "'Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of _cheese_.'"

The strange woman looked up at the sage and blinked strangely.

Jiraiya was grinning toothily. Very white. He brushed often.

A suspicion hit the girl—Jiraiya knew where Kakashi was, via the sage's comment.

The ex-ANBU alerted her gaze, allowing the sage to walk on the uneven sod in front of her. He was leading the way to a large old tree deep the forest. The small woman maneuvered through the terrain carefully, silently, watching for traps as she climbed over the ridges of roots and branches. Jiraiya-sama stopped at the largest tree, looking up expectantly.

Except…there wasn't anything up there.

He turned back to the woman, a tad confused and shaken from the accident when suddenly a red spot appeared on his nose, like a drop of rain. "Oh—crackers and cheese, who wouldn't want to write about _that_…"

Yuugao raced up the trunk, "_Sempai!_" she whispered as she climbed.

It was a trap.

Except it was Kakashi's trap, so it didn't really count as an enemy—just as a ridiculous nuisance. Except…the enemy came out as soon as she was suspended within it. Jiraiya was vexed with sigh, expelling it slowly until the screech of the blade against blade finally replaced the white noise stuffed in his head. Jiraiya grinned, opening his eyes wide and flashing a piercing stare upon the cloaked stranger. "Hello there," he cooed with a growing smile, "Did you think you'd come out now and claim your Konohagakure vending machine prize? Well think again, fool! He's ours!"

The ninja finally pulled apart—Jiraiya west, the _ukenin_ east. Jiraiya issued fire jutsu, the ninja countered from behind. Jiraiya became a log and rallied at the ukenin again—blades screeched. It was like music to the sage's ears. "You wouldn't want him anyway!" he announced, "He bit me when he was a teething baby, and by the time he was four, he was making eyes at my girlfriend! I still haven't forgiven him for that," Jiraiya muttered spitefully. "I should have_ never_ taken him with me to that bar…"

Distance separated them once more. The enemy ninja tried a water ninjutsu—it was weak, disguising a seal placed on a root. Jiraiya however collided with it (as a log) because he loved the boom sound of the particular seal. Rain and root and grass and dirt flew up into every crevice in a wide radius, "How do you like that?" Jiraiya laughed up into the tree. He didn't care about the woman now. She was ex-ANBU. She was probably fine.

Jiraiya turned mid-air and balanced on a high limb with his feet, watching for the ukenin. It was a venture made rather tedious by the blast (his fault) but maybe, just maybe the man had been stupid enough to get blown up by his own trap. No such luck. And with the mist still falling, the man could have easily laid another set of seals. Except Jiraiya had one now too.

It was a really big one, because Jiraiya was in a really big, bad mood. In fact it was so large, it was going to make this mess look like a puddle compared with an ocean. There was going to be a really, really big boom. The sage grinned.

The blades came.

.

.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3

.

.

.

.

**3**

.

"I _see_ you…" Jiraiya sang out, dodging. The enemy was rather quick, dodging the blade the sannin sent in return. "Let's quit playing around, shall we?" Jiraiya hummed.

The enemy ninja seemed to agree—he broke into shadow clones—two of them in addition to the main body. Jiraiya made a noise—just what he needed. Earth style raged with fire, water evaporated into smoke, and after several rounds of simple substitution, Jiraiya met the main body between the sage's carefully planned trap, "…and then there was that time that damn brat was five, and he replaced my big scroll with Iron country's guide to cooking. It had been some gift to his father of course and Sakumo couldn't dishonor the country by giving it back, so I ended up getting the damn thing. It weighs like a bijuu. And do you think someone like me actually _likes_ to _cook?_ Ha ha!" Jiraiya laughed mirthlessly. "I spent the next two _years_ trying to pawn it off on people only to toss it at Sarutobi-sensei one day. And do you know what?" The blades sang. "He actually took it home with him saying, 'Oh, thank you Jiraiya! My wife and I will love this!'"

Jiraiya withdrew another kunai. He was getting ready. And so was the ukenin. The man procured water style, and Jiraiya dodged on a high earth wall and the two clashed again in the centre, blade against blade. Singing. "And shall I tell you what happened with the kid was eight? Hm? His father…_died_."

The enemy spoke up suddenly…"Are you two…related?"

**BOOM.**

Some-what satisfied, Jiraiya brushed off his garments, massaged his eardrums, and followed the woman's obvious trail.

There was a way to leave one, from one Konoha shinobi to another. Jiraiya didn't really have to follow it outside of thirty meters—she hadn't done the best job of stopping the copy-nin from bleeding all over the place.

Typical.

Jiraiya bit his lip, beginning to pout again. Why was he here? Naruto? Hm. Didn't sound like a good enough reason for this right now. No, not even Minato's son could hold such power like Sakumo's.

Ah, there he goes again.

Jiraiya sped up even though he could have turned around for the nearest town, asking for a bottle of their best sake. He could have found a pretty girl and come morning, forget all about what's-his-face. But no, that was too easy. Besides, the strange girl would not appreciate that. And he admitted, he was slightly interested to know how she was holding up from Kakashi's brilliant prowess of preventing anyone from getting to him.

He saw her from the side, catching a glimpse of her uniform. Something was wrong. She was watching for something. And it wasn't for the toad sage. "Ah hell," Jiraiya muttered. "My blast…Now every bounty hunter in town…" He mumbled a few more colorful metaphors—the ones he used to use when…Well. Scratch that. Yuugao had made his last follow mark paces ago—she dropped the copy-nin and turned to evade the blades.

It was a stupid thing to do—unless you were an ex-ANBU.

Kakashi exploded—Yuugao turned into a log and suddenly she came in from behind and the ukenin was the one to fall. Jiraiya smelled more of them. "Ah hell," he muttered again. It really was all his fault.

He should have _never_ taken this mission…

"…Sempai!" she cried out.

Well well well.

He was alive.

And fighting till his last breath, too!

Typical.

"Precocious, altruistic little idiot…" Jiraiya swore. He sent a few blades in Kakashi's direction, as a warning.

Jiraiya had this.

…Er…Five of them revealed themselves.

One…was Akatsuki.

Jiraiya couldn't tell who it was. He did not think it mattered much anyway. The sage glanced back in the vicinity of the others—Kakashi, then Yuugao. There were in a neat little row, separated each by about twenty meters, facing a neat little group of five merry men on the forest floor, one of which wearing a cloak of grey and black. "How nice…Let's have tea," Jiraiya said.

Scratch that—Kakashi just keeled over.

"You _little_…!"

Jiraiya thus had to protect the woman protecting Kakashi, whom in a sense, had probably been given the same premise from Tsunade about protecting Naruto. Except Kakashi would never refuse a mission slip. He was always looking for a way to fall.

Yuugao was of course given the brunt of the attack. Poor girl. The sage immediately engaged the attention of three, but the one with the red and grey cloak managed to escape—"Oily son of a…" The akatsuki member threw blades at Yuugao—she deflected them easily until she stopped, frozen. "Shit!" Jiraiya continued muttering his curses, but Kakashi was way ahead of him, picking his head up like a puppet with strings. He caught one of the blades thrown by the second and deflected it with such speed, the ukenin was down. The Akatsuki member remained—weaving hand signs and moving in for the kill. And before Kakashi's strings were severed, he actually managed a substitution to take him and the girl out of there. The girl was released from the genjutsu at last and she forwarded upon the cloaked member without hesitation, just like Tsunade indignantly walking up to a creditor. Or to Jiraiya, on any given day. The dark violet haired woman slammed him with everything she had because Kakashi was busy falling over again.

**BOOM.**

The sound of mighty Jiraiya's fury was heard once more, and the ukenin fell over like cardboard cut-outs, unconscious and wounded. The quakes of this blast were even greater than before, and Jiraiya would have skipped upon them like lily pads today, but instead he made a mad dash to catch the boy in his arms.

That's all he was, really…

Just Sakumo's boy.

A blue blanket once nuzzled the child's skin when his parents brought him home from the hospital. Jiraiya was first to see him at home of course, being the boy's only awesome uncle. The sage set him down—the child was a man now. And dammit—indistinguishable from the White Fang.

Jiraiya turned—

—the strange girl fell. Jiraiya could see blood on the blade.

.

.

.

.


	4. Chapter 4

.

.

.

.

**4**

.

The sage grimaced and stepped forward, staring at the man with the red and grey cloak.

The akatsuki man vanished.

Jiraiya swore. He was tempted to give chase, but decided against it. The sage raced for the girl—the wound was long, but she'd live. The woman was already coming to, clutching the area in pain and searching for bandages in her back pocket. "Jii…r…" she slurred, blinking her eyes several times, "…sam…What…?"

"He's gone. The rest are all taken care of."

"_Ka_…"

Jiraiya grunted. "Let's get you fixed up first, hm?"

.

The sage carried Kakashi while the woman walked. She was completely silent. Her wound pained her a great deal and she was still sweating. Jiraiya kept an eye on her.

Kakashi meanwhile drifted in and out. No, Jiraiya didn't have eyes in the back of his head, nor the byakugan, but Yuugao kept looking over frequently. Like a repeating muscle spasm, it was quick and consistent. The sage smiled. So his daughter had a crush on his nephew, hm? Except she wasn't really his daughter.

But Kakashi was still his nephew.

"Don't worry," the sage cleared his throat. "He won't die on my back," Jiraiya said. "He knows I'd never forgive him."

The girl quickened her pace—falling in line just behind the tall sage. Some color came to her face. "…Have you forgiven him for anything, master Jiraiya?"

Yep. She cared. Even though she kept her voice masterfully steady. "No," the sage sounded harshly. "No, I haven't."

Jiraiya was still mad.

And he desperately wanted to throw Kakashi off his back just then, go to that little town and forget all about what's-his-face with some sake and a pretty girl…but…he didn't. His anger served him enough to continue walking and watching the woman beside him. Who, in her curious sagacity, elected not to say anything more.

Normally, Tsunade would have chastised him, paired with a cold shoulder striking his face indignantly. Yes. It _was_ a silly game of his. But it was the only one that kept him going.

Perhaps the woman understood that somehow, having inserted herself in this scene like a chess piece on the board, comprised of fallen trees and sinkholes as squares. The strange girl continued watching Kakashi every now and then. And the fly buzzing in Jiraiya's ear laughed all about the girl's concern.

Oh how it never failed.

Oh how it was so familiar to him…once.

.

"So?" the blonde-haired woman stared. There were new pens in her cup.

"I told the girl to give you the report," the man admired her tile flooring. Very shiny. Did the little tower genin clean it today?

"Yes, she gave me that, and that's why I'm seeing you now."

"Oh really? I thought it was because I was just so damn attractive," he turned his head with a blush.

"Fool."

"Princess."

She rolled her eyes. "So was it Itachi?"

"Probably."

"And he just left?"

"Yeah. What is this, fifty questions?"

"Well don't you find that odd?"

"Of course I find it odd. But I couldn't exactly detain him and ask him about the beetles attacking our trees lately or his current favorite novelist, or the way he likes his coffee in the morning—"

Tsunade sighed. "So it's just something…'to be continued in our next', is it?"

Jiraiya grinned. He could have kissed Tsunade just then. "That's why I make so much money, " he stepped forward, lowering his voice in a suggestive manner. "The sequels. Well…" he retracted, "…Granted it's only worked with Icha Icha so far…and that's only because it kept getting more and more…" he rolled his hand in repeating circles.

"Yes yes," Tsunade stacked a few pages on her desk and stood. "Well. Let's hope the continuation is a good one for the girl."

Tsunade was leaving her office. "—The girl?" Jiraiya detained the hokage. "Why…? What's wrong with her?"

"The same thing that happened to Kakashi. Jiraiya—she lost a lot of blood."

"But you said she…" Jiraiya muttered a despairing noise which leavened out to a sigh. "Thanks," he uttered, and held the door open for the princess, and himself. Then he remained there, grasping the door, blankly staring off into space while the rays of a descending sun filtered through her windows as pure orange and gold.

"Coming…?"

"…Yeah."

.

He went to see the woman.

Her condition had deteriorated.

Jiraiya blamed himself. "…I should have just dropped Kakashi, and…" he breathed out slowly—alone in the room. His nephew was just across the hall, more than likely at the same juncture of pale and totally unconscious as the dark violet haired woman beneath him. Jiraiya sighed again. "…'Love is bound'," he quoted once more, "'and the more it is bound, the less it is blind.'" Jiraiya folded his arms obstinately. "So maybe…if _I_ scratch my eyes out…I would love him and not see Sakumo all the time."

Yuugao's eyes were closed.

Jiraiya bit his lip—restraining pitfalls of tears and emotions. "Because I_ am_ still mad…at him…for…dying."

"So…" the sage picked up, looking over her form. "If you don't leave here soon," Jiraiya said seriously, "I carry a grudge like you wouldn't believe. And you really…_really_ wouldn't want that. Especially if I was ever to be kin to you…which I doubt…" Jiraiya smiled a little. "Anybody who reads Icha Icha is seriously depraved…

"But…I suppose, you must be a little strange too," the sage admired. "Anybody who can fall in love with a man who uses shuriken for doorstoppers must at least be quick on her feet. Personally, I'm still pissed off about that…And I know Tsunade is too…"

.

.

.

.

-Caliko, _Kariko Emma_


End file.
